Something borrowed, something blue . . .

How did a month pass since I last posted here? Now that I'm 25, I'm prone to lose sense of time and forget things. Problem of old age, clearly. Plus, I've had a super-full month. Two weddings!



First there was the wedding in Lecce, in Southern Italy, of two beloved choir friends. It was sunny and there were emotional moments and good food and pretty dresses. Perfect!



It didn't hurt that it was also my birthday, and I actually had my own cake. Only the best bride and groom in the world would put a surprise birthday cake next to their wedding cake.



The next wedding was in Bologna, in the same beautiful municipal building where Massimo (my ex-roommate/landlord) had his wedding in April. This wedding featured more choir friends, lots of thrown rice (the bride, who had an elegant upswept hairdo, couldn't get the rice out of her hair for the rest of the day), and tons of family and friends.



The two different weddings were ideal complements - one with a traditional church mass, the other a bit more laid back - and it was especially touching to see my friends so happy and (strangely) relaxed on their wedding days.



And now it's really summer . . . I can tell by the 200 degrees present in my apartment. I will probably have to start putting bowls of ice cubes in front of the fan to simulate air conditioning.

Graduation and Tooth Removal

What else happened during my trip home in May?



First, Rosa (that is, my sister) graduated from college. This was an exciting experience - despite the icky weather on the big day, it was a really nice ceremony that even included mortarboard-throwing (something I'd never seen in real life). Even though Rosa isn't supposed to turn into a grown-up, I'm still proud of her!



The graduation weekend began with one of the most weird driving experiences I've ever had. Rosa's friend Ashley was taking us to a dinner at another friend's house, and about 5 minutes into the trip another driver on the highway communicated to us that we had a massively flat tire. Worried (and hungry), we pulled into a nearby gas station. The tire was entirely deflated and unpatchable. We (the four passengers of the car) had no idea how to change the tire, or even if there was a spare in the trunk. But no fear! Not only was the station attendant super willing to help us, but soon after our arrival, two men and a little boy pulled up in a truck and proceeded to change the tire, almost wordlessly. The boy was parked on the curb, left to eat his fruit cup in peace. Rosa tried to befriend him, and failed.



Immediately after Rosa's graduation, I had four wisdom teeth extracted. At the beginning it seemed like the easiest medical procedure ever: 15 minutes, 4 teeth gone, no pain, and a happy dreamy feeling that would have been prolonged by Vicodin. For a few days I was in high spirits and proceeded to get excited about cake-baking and other optimistic eating adventures.



Like barbecue.



It was great at the time, but it ended with dry socket. As that name suggests, dry socket is a gross, uncomfortable, generally BAD thing that can happen to you if your empty tooth-holes don't heal the right way. And as luck would have it, Vicodin makes my stomach hurt, so I couldn't even start to build up a painkiller addiction! Instead I relied on Advil and clove oil, which is magical and really does numb all dry socket pain. Nowadays dry socket is just a memory! Though I wonder: when do these tooth holes actually close up? Can anyone tell me?



For the first time in years, I went to Vermont with my whole family, which was really wonderful. We enjoyed all the nature, food and 99 cent baskets that this great state has to offer. It was one of those happy, too-short experiences that makes you feel nostalgic even while you're in the middle of it.



As always, I feel a little incomplete on either continent - always missing what's on the other side. Older, wiser expat friends tell me that this feeling never goes away. But the bittersweet feeling is proof of a full life; plus, I appreciate barbecue and cake much more if I spend some time craving them.

Spill the Milk

It's true, I should post some stuff regarding my trip home. I'm heading back to Bologna tomorrow, so - as always - my blog is chronologically messed up. Oh well. What do you want from me? I have dry socket. It hurts.

My time at home has been great, despite the ouchy wisdom teeth problems. Perfect weather, lots of loved ones, plenty of kimchi. I can't ask for more! One of the highlights was my trip to NYC, which was too fast (it always is), but included a lot of adventures. New York City in the spring is so wonderful - it's really full of energy, and people seem cheerful (whereas everyone is mean in the winter).



One of the highlights was going to Jean's new second home, a super unique Japanese restaurant, Kajitsu, in the East Village. The food, which is served in a bunch of pre-set courses, is amazing - it's all vegetables, but you come out feeling as if you've eaten a million different food groups. Everything - literally, from floor to ceiling and every plate and chopstick - is specially selected and beautiful to look at. The bowl pictured above is 200 years old. I can't even believe we were allowed to touch it.


This lovely creature comes with the restaurant.

Of course, too much elegance is not something we can sustain. So we found the Ukrainian Festival down the street and I became determined to win a stuffed animal by knocking over the cans. But how difficult is this game?! It was impossible, I sucked, and truth being told I may have started out with some kind of alcohol-related handicap. Pictured below is one of my attempts to throw the beanbag.



This is how I ended up NOT winning, despite my leaning over the barrier and the fact that the guys running the stand blatantly re-organized the cans so that I had a better chance.



One can away from a neon stuffed dog!
But wait . . . we couldn't leave without taking photos with my kind, cheating-inclined stand managing friends.



After this grand scene, I had to leave New York to go to Rosa's graduation. That's for the next post. But first there are some required photos.

Like a cliched shot of New York:


And me with the best cat in the world:

He's awfully photogenic, especially when he poses for the camera and appears to have both eyes!

Green Grass

This is a belated post to commemorate spring in Bologna: commemorate because it's over. According to my handy Mac weather forecast, this week is going to have temperatures in the 90's. (I'm in Cambridge right now, so I can say this without actually feeling the icky sweaty humid fear of that weather.) So, spring in Bologna is a thing of the past. It's beach time.

But there were some great times.



This was a picnic that included real plates and silverware, salad (with salad dressing made on the spot), and cake. Among other things. I think that it was probably worth five stars. During this weekend (the weekend of May 1) I played frisbee twice, and was terrible. I remember being pretty good at it when I was younger, but I guess I lost my skills somewhere along the road to becoming about extremely tall and uncoordinated.

And here's the view from my new apartment, starting June 1!


Hopefully I'll be done moving after this. I have an awesome new mattress, too. The only thing missing is a shower, but I swear I'm going to get really good at washing myself using this facility here:


The photo doesn't even do it justice. The tub is about two feet long, the eaves of the apartment are basically three feet above it, and I'm going to have to become a pro at washing myself with one hand while kneeling. As my new landlady told me, at a pause during her endless stream of cigarettes and advice on romance: if a six foot tall French student managed to shower there for five years, I can certainly do it. I'm shorter than him by two inches, after all!

Next post will include info on Rosa's graduation, lilacs in Cambridge, and my awesome tooth extractions. Not the front teeth, though.

Joy

I was recently reunited with the (musical) love of my life, Ginevra Di Marco, when my choir sang with her for the second time. For my few regular readers (hi parents!) you may remember that we participated in a concert with her last March. She and the super-talented musicians she works with recently released a new album and had a concert in a beautiful old theater in Florence. That's rehearsal, below.



I am a truly rabid fan of this woman, with an enthusiasm that's probably seen most often in connection with Michael Jackson or Madonna. But Ginevra's voice is better. This was my general feeling during the concert . . . with my fellow fan, Sarah!



Like any good fan, I took photos of (and then stole) the song list.



Last year we were all starstruck and excited to participate in an event with such a talented singer, but for some reason this year was even more special. Maybe because the faces are familiar and we felt more comfortable onstage with her - I really don't know. But there's something really thrilling about being onstage with a musician whom you respect and admire, both for her talent and musical choices (plus the talent of her band). Also, the choir kicked butt. And the theater, which had a capacity of more than 700 people, was full.

(Didn't take this photo or the next, but they give you an idea of the whole setup.)


Mermaid hair and amazing-ness.


And, of course, a photo with her (with the same people as last year, for tradition's sake)! I am attached to her arm which is holding a cigarette; this does not diminish my excitement!



It was definitely a Sunday well spent. And my inner fan will remain slightly calm until next year.

A Romantic Interlude

Last weekend I was a witness for Massimo's (i.e. my eccentric ex-landlord's) wedding. See the pretty couple, below.



Massimo got married in what is basically the equivalent of city court, in the city municipality building in Bologna. Because everything is much more beautiful in Italy, this official ceremony (which lasted about 15 minutes) still seemed like a super-elegant, almost royal affair.



Being a witness was supremely exciting, even though I had been skeptical up until the last minute (I knew nothing about my duties before showing up at 11:30 on Sunday morning). We had to submit official ID in order to be approved as witnesses; luckily for me, an expired student travel card (the only thing I had in my "nice" purse) was accepted! I got to sit up front with the other three witnesses and the bride and groom. Here is my fancy chair.



And this is what the official ceremony looked like. There's the ring bearer, the bride's nephew.



I got to sign those huge marriage certificates sitting on the table. Oddly, the guy who officiated (the President of the Provincial Council or something similar) pronounced Emma and Gilmore perfectly, and stumbled over Valenze. Go figure.



The entire experience was made more interesting by the fact that Massimo's family has very deep roots in Bologna and they made an effor to organize a traditional, Bolognese wedding. I felt like a tourist, as usual, in the best possible way. Not to mention that the guests were a cast of characters made for a movie. Late bride, lecherous uncles, stressed parents, flamboyantly dressed inlaws, you name it.



This has been a nightmarish week due to my particularly bizarre moving situation (or lack thereof, really), and I'm currently scrambling as I try to figure out where I'm going to end up living. So this happy event was much needed. And now my signature will live forever in Bologna!



(Regarding the earthquake, I'm just fine, and so is Bologna itself. We're pretty far away from L'Aquila, so I've been seeing the same scary and upsetting news coverage as all of you.)

Waiting

These past few weeks have involved a lot of patience. I was waiting to move, and then I was waiting (and hoping) to find out that I would still be able to do so. It was almost spring, and then it got cold again, so I think that everyone is looking forward to this weekend when it's supposed to be 70 degrees.



I haven't written since my parents' visit to Bologna, which was wonderful. We ate lots of good food and I tried to be a good tour guide (despite the fact that it's impossible to predict anything in this country). That's another example of patience: my parents have lots of it and it makes them really flexible travelers. Luckily for me!



We saw the amazing mosaics in Ravenna, to which this photo does not do justice.



And paintings in Modena. In this photo the color of the wall may be more beautiful than anything else.



I also got a hair cut: bangs!



This may be the most patience-trying change of all! I made it to almost 25 without ever really having to spend much energy on my hair. It is probably appropriate that I start learning now.

So, in two days I am changing apartments for the first time in two and a half years. My whole point of reference in Bologna is about to change. Finally!